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I am the Weaselmomma, raising 5 children (Weasels) and 1 husband in a wacky Weasel World. I write, in order to maintain some small degree of of sanity, about anything that happens to be on my mind. Come along for the ride and we'll laugh the days away.
What's a weasel anyway?

Monday, February 2, 2009

After almost an entire weekend of being horribly ill, that followed a very harrowing week, I woke up this morning to what looked like a refugee camp. There were mountains of clean laundry, yet unfolded covering 4/5 of furniture in the living room. The kitchen looked like it had been ransacked by hungry burglars who had time to cook. Ugh. This is why Mom's don't have time to be sick. It's too much work when we feel better.

I go about the immediate tasks at hand and flip on the news. It's Groundhog Day, I almost forgot. I watched in anticipation as I continued reading blogs cleaning and having my morning coffee. After all the ritualistic hulabaloo, Punxsautawney Phil was pulled out of his burrow in a drugged out his mind state. He looked pretty ticked - off about it, like a mean drunk.

As payback for being woken up while trying to sleep it off, and wanting to go back to bed for 6 weeks, he said he saw his shadow and sentenced us all to 6 more weeks of winter. Now, this is probably joyous news for Seashore Subjects, but not for anyone living above the Mason-Dixon line.

It has been a harshly cold and snowy winter. February is the epitome of miserable. This is when cabin fever starts to make all the nuts crack (myself included). Just because that selfish, fat, lazy, useless, drug addict of a rodent wants to go back to bed. He has no consideration for anyone other than himself. He doesn't think about his rodents-in-arms, The Weasels, who do not get the benefits of hibernation. Hey laughingly mocks us with "Suckers! I saw my shadow. Next time you should think twice before waking me up!"

This seems to be his attitude more years than not. He can't even give us the benefit of hope that we may soon be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Jerk.

I for one vote that we lynch him. Or perhaps some of you rural folks may enjoy a nice Groundhog Stew.

I dislike groundhogs greatly, the year I actually got to plant sweet corn and was insanely excited watching it grow and start to make corn those loathsome creatures came in and attacked it. I think what possibly made me the most mad was the fact that they just ate the husk and silk and left the immature corn thus destroying it and having it go to waste. After that they tagged the deer which took out what they couldn't reach but at least the stupid deer ate the corn. I say the weasels assassinate both!

Can no one else there do laundry for crying out loud? Are you the only person capable of doing dishes, taking out the trash or picking up after yourself? Sheesh! What a bunch of slackers! I'd send my kids over to help, but they'd just join forces. Hoping you feel better and that prospects crop up soon.